The Hardest Thing
by Selke
Summary: A Misfit remembers her past, and how she dealt with an emotional blow...


((The only thing I own here is the story. I don't own the characters. Hasbro does. I think. Anyway, it's not me. So don't sue. I'm not getting gratuity here.))  
  
  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
It really is like they say. You never really notice something until it's gone. You don't know how much you truly cared until the opportunity to do so leaves.  
  
It's been two years since the Misfits broke up. Right after Stormer died. I don't think we could really handle anything after she was gone. She was always the heart and soul of the group. When she died, the band died with her.  
  
It began so innocently. Jem and the Holograms had a concert in L.A. Some fundraiser or another. She used to do so many; one ran directly into the next. Come to think of it, I think it was for that bimbo Danse's place, Haven House. It doesn't matter, really.  
  
We Misfits had shown up, wanting to supply the night's mischief. I don't know what we were planning to do. Wreck the costumes? Mess with the lighting systems? Lock Jem in a closet? Again, it doesn't matter.  
  
Roxy, Jetta, Stormer, Clash, and I had been sneaking around backstage. I remember laughing at the security; we got back there so easily. I guess they don't make rent-a-cops like they used to.  
  
We'd been wearing disguises. Pulled on plain clothes, tucked our hair under our hats. I always thought our costumes were great. Didn't really think about my make up giving me away, or my bright chartreuse hair poking out of the cap. I thought I was perfect.  
  
I had a horrible temper, a vicious jealous streak. Everything Jem did, we Misfits had to do better. I would get so angry, but somehow Mary was always able to calm me down. To an extent, anyway. Sometimes DADDY couldn't even get me calm.  
  
I barked out orders to the girls, sending them all off in different directions. I strode towards Jem's dressing room, standing outside of it for a long moment. Just listening to what was going inside. Jem and Rio were fighting again. I had to laugh. I had been over him long enough to know that it was ridiculous. They were fighting about Riot. Again, laughable. True, I was in love with him for a while, but I moved on. It seemed that Jem just couldn't do the same. It was nice to know that Jem wasn't perfect, and that I was.  
  
My group rendezvoused backstage, fifteen minutes later. We chatted excitedly. I spread the gossip that Rio and Jem were on the rocks. Again. Jetta said that she'd spray painted and slashed all of the costumes. Clash and Roxy had messed with the sound equipment. Stormer reported that she had been eavesdropping as well. She'd heard that the Holograms were having a tougher time than I'd thought.  
  
Mary said that she'd overheard Kimber and Aja bickering, lord knows about what. Raya and Shana were at each other's throats as well. Kimber was threatening to quit. Raya wanted to strike out on her own as well. Aja complained that Jem got all the attention, Shana that she wanted more time for her little fashion designing. I remember storing that information at the back of my mind, wanting to use it later than night.  
  
That's when we heard shouting coming from behind us. We turned to see the Holograms holding their destroyed clothing and instruments. Jem was also there, a deep frown on her face.  
  
We Misfits and Clash laughed as we ran out from backstage, outside, not paying attention, giggling as the Holograms and a couple of rent-a-cop's chased us.  
  
If we'd have stopped running, or at least paid more attention to where we were, we would've seen that car racing across the busy parking lot. None of us saw it right away. One of the Holograms shouted a warning as we ran. I was too busy cackling to pay attention to the warning.  
  
Stormer was still laughing as the car struck her. The car just streaked away in a silver flash. I remember just rushing over to where Mary was laying, broken and bleeding. There was a large crimson pool forming around her head. I held her hand tightly as she looked up at me, her bright eyes dimming quickly.  
  
I just screamed at the Holograms to go call an ambulance, knowing it wouldn't do any good. The rest of the Misfits joined me around Stormer, talking to her, telling her that she'd be all right. We all had tears in our eyes. but Clash was outright crying. I remember getting angry with her for that. I thought that she should've kept her wits about her, to try to comfort Mary. I was wrong to be mad about that. I admit that now.  
  
We spoke to Stormer for a few moments. We spoke of our adventures, of our love of her. I told her she was like a sister to me. Roxy, Jetta, and Clash said similar things. We just sat there, holding her quivering form.  
  
Mary didn't say anything, but we knew she heard us. She managed a small smile when Kimber joined us around her.  
  
We heard an ambulance howling then. Jetta jumped up, trying to spot it. I knew it was still a mile away. That Stormer would die before they could get here. And she did.  
  
She just looked up at me, her blue eyes now pale. Her curly indigo hair made a deeper hue by the blood soaking it. She took one final, shaky breath.  
  
I remember just sitting there, hugging her lifeless body. The ambulance attendants had to pull me away from her, kicking and screaming the entire time. They eventually shot me up with a sedative to calm me down. I think that's the worst thing they could've done.  
  
I sat down in the living room at home, the rest of the Misfits sitting around, in various stages of grief. Jetta comforted a sobbing Clash. Roxy sat there, a sad scowl on her face. She tried to be the tough one, pretend that there were no tearstains around her read eyes. I just sat there, unable to move, to think. I still had Mary's blood on my shirt.  
  
I couldn't believe that Mary was gone. One of my best friends died, and it was my fault. It had been my idea to go and sabotage the concert. I had led the pack running away from the coliseum. I led us to the parking lot. So why didn't the car hit ME? Why didn't that stupid car take my life? Why did they take Mary? The kindest one among us, the most talented; she had the most to live for.  
  
But in one quick swoop, fate took her away from us.  
  
The funeral was horrible. Craig flew in of course. Kimber showed up, bringing the rest of the Holograms and her sister, Jerrica, with her. Jem was there, too. But she didn't say anything, just lurked around the back of the Cathedral.  
  
It was a closed casket ceremony. Her body had been too badly damaged when she was hit. People just walked past it, it's silver hue shining in the dim light.  
  
I remember being amazed by how many people were there. The Starlight Girls showed up on their own. Lindsey Pierce came. As did just about everyone Mary had ever met. The Stingers came, too. They were somber, also. I don't think they said one collective sentence between the three of them.  
  
The priest gave a beautiful speech. Several of Stormer's friends gave speeches, too. Craig had asked that I give one, but I just couldn't. I didn't know what to say. I felt horrible saying no, but I just couldn't go up there without completely breaking down.  
  
Both Roxy and Clash spoke. Jetta told me that she didn't feel comfortable giving a speech. That she didn't know her as well as the rest of us. She sat back with me, comforting me as I cried softly.  
  
I had to be threatened to go to the burial after the funeral. I didn't know if I could handle seeing them place Mary in the ground. It turned out I couldn't.  
  
I fell to my knees sobbing uncontrollably. Jetta and Roxy had to pull me away from the coffin. I don't really remember that part. That's what they told me after the fact. I don't actually remember much from the burial. I guess I blocked it out.  
  
Mary was such a good person. She never wanted to hurt anyone. She just wanted to make music. I never would've thought that she would've been the first of us to. die. Between my driving and temper, Roxy's attitude, Jetta's.everything, not the least of which a smart mouth and a worse temper than Roxy, Clash's. well, Clash would've been second to last to die.  
  
I. I still can't believe that she's gone. I still expect to wake up in the morning to find out that the last two years have been a bad dream. I keep expecting to walk out to the kitchen in the morning to find Stormer making breakfast. She always used to make these superb Belgian waffles, with warm, homemade maple syrup.  
  
Stormer's gravestone is always covered in flowers, even two years after her dead. I still bring out a dozen white roses there every week. I always place a single bright blue flower directly in the center of the bouquet. Symbolic, I guess.  
  
Daddy helped me set up a foundation for her, to help struggling musicians. The Mary Phillips Foundation. I think that was the first unselfish act that I've ever done. Even Jerrica, Jem, and the Holograms helped with it. Eric contributed more than anyone. As much as he's loath to admit it, he cared for her a lot. She was like a little sister to him in a way. With Craig in Europe so much, she didn't have a male 'role model' in her life. Her dad had been dead for years.  
  
God, 'role mode?' Mary was twenty-four when she died. Today would've been her twenty-sixth birthday. I guess that's why I felt compelled to finally write about Stormer.  
  
I'm meeting with Jetta and Roxy to go out to the cemetery in a bit. Meaning I'm going to have to stop and pick up a bouquet of flowers. Maybe I'll pick some of the roses from the bush out back. Mary is the one who planted that bush. When "Top of the Charts" hit the. well, top of the charts. Roxy and I went out partying, got drunk. Mary? She bought a bottle of expensive wine and a pink rose bush. She spent the day in the garden behind the house, sipping on the wine and planting the flowers. Roxy made fun of her for that. That she stayed home with her plants while we partied the night away.  
  
I have to go. Jetta just pulled up, then we'll have to swing by and pick up Roxy.  
  
I love you, Stormer. I miss you. I'm sorry.  
  
Love, Pizzazz 


End file.
